


The Champion

by lotus0kid



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-18
Packaged: 2019-11-15 06:14:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18068105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lotus0kid/pseuds/lotus0kid
Summary: Aaron Gold has done what he can to avoid his mystical destiny, but now that it involves his missing son, it's finally time to become a hero.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a seventh anniversary prompt and my deep desire to turn Gold into Storybrooke's [Duck Newton](https://theadventurezone.fandom.com/wiki/Duck_Newton).

It’s an okay room, Aaron supposes.  White walls.  A wood dresser.  The bed is small, but bigger than the hotel cots his papa would sometimes pay for, if Aaron begged.  The duvet has rocket ships on it, he’s not sure why.  There’s also a teddy bear on the bed.  Its blank glass eyes stared at him as he shuffled in and the woman who told him to call her Aunt Im said good night and shut the door.

Now with his teeth brushed and slightly scratchy pajamas put on, he’s curled up on the part of the bed that’s wedged into a corner of the room.  The bear is lying on its side at the other end.  Maybe he should try holding it.  It looks soft.  But no, he likes holding Peter Pan, even if the straw doll has gotten a little dingy.  Maybe Aunt Im and the other one, Aunt Iph, will let him wash Peter.  Maybe.

He turns his head so he can look through the window next to the bed, gazing down the darkened street below.  Will his papa ever drive back up that street?  Maybe not.  The thought makes Aaron’s chest hurt with too many feelings.  He squeezes his eyes shut, presses his head hard against the wall.  Tries to make the world go away.

Instead, the world explodes with blue light.  Aaron chokes on a scream as a shape like a lady in a strange dress forms within the light and bellows in a voice louder than the movies, “ _AARON GOLD, YOU HAVE BEEN CHOSEN._ ”

“What?!” he squeaks while curling himself into an even tighter ball, both hands clutching at Peter.

“ _YOU ARE CHOSEN TO DEFEAT THE COMING EVIL.  RISE AND ACCEPT YOUR MISSION._ ”

“I- I can’t!  I’ll get in trouble!”  Aunt Im and Aunt Iph have been nice so far, but he knows adults don’t stay nice if you’re trouble.

The lady made of blue light pauses.  Squints at him.  In a voice that sounds almost normal, she says, “ _Wait, how old are you?_ ”

“I’m eight, ma’am.”

She recoils slightly.  “ _Oh.  Sorry._ ”

Then she blinks out of existence, like turning off a light switch, leaving Aaron trembling and baffled on the bed.  He grabs the teddy bear and Peter and they all cower beneath the rocket ship duvet.  He waits for Aunt Im and Aunt Iph to come and yell about all the noise, but the little house stays quiet.  A long time later, he falls asleep.  He never speaks of the bizarre encounter.  Over time, the memory fades into nothing more than a dream he once had.

\---

**TEN YEARS LATER**

Long after curfew, Aaron shoves open the door of his bedroom and stomps inside, dropping his leather jacket on the floor and dropping himself on his bed.  He lets out a long and heavy groan into his pillow- the purest expression of the torment in his soul.

He’s in hell.  This has to be hell.  He hates Milah.  And he loves her.  He never wants to see her again.  He doesn’t want to spend a minute without her.  He wishes they’d never met.  He’ll die if she leaves.  It’s just- her eyes can be so _cold_.  Like gray ice.  And she can just _say_ these awful things, and they sound like facts.  She makes him believe every word.

As he lies on his bed, _not crying_ , blue light suddenly floods the room.  Aaron whips around and sees a shape he wouldn’t have called familiar five seconds ago.

“ _AARON GOLD, ARE YOU READY TO ACCEPT YOUR MISSION?  WILL YOU DEFEAT THE EVIL THAT THREATENS YOUR WORLD?_ ”

“The fuck are you talking about?”

The blue light lady pauses, and squints.  “ _YOUR DESTINY.  YOUR MISSION.  IT IS YOUR DUTY TO-_ ”

He waves a hand in her direction.  “Yeah, yeah, look, I’ve got bigger problems, okay?  Get lost.”

She rallies, floating closer to the ceiling and radiating some lovely cerulean beams.  “ _YOUR DESTINY CANNOT BE DENIED.  YOUR MISSION WILL-_ ”

“Will my mission get Milah back?”

She recoils, and seems to dim in all ways.  “ _Who is Milah?_ ”

Aaron rolls his eyes.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.  Get fucked, whoever you are.”

He flops onto his side facing the wall and watches the blue light fade.  “ _You are… not ready_ ,” the lady murmurs before she and her light disappear completely.

He has to fix things with Milah.  He has to make it right, if he can only figure out what went wrong.  He’ll do it.  Milah will forgive him.  She has to.  Maybe he’ll invite her over, and they can burn his Smiths albums together in the back garden.  Maybe it’ll be fine then.  Maybe.  He doesn’t like them _that_ much.  They’re shite, really.  She’s right.

He hopes to fuck that weird blue lady quits bothering him for good this time.

\---

**TEN YEARS LATER**

More tears well up and Aaron angrily rubs them away, blinks his eyes clear so he can continue to stare into the tiny pool of light cast by his torch, and continue to see nothing.  No sign, no trace.  Not a single iota that might suggest his son is somewhere nearby.  That he’s safe.  That he’s unhurt.  That he’s alive.

It was supposed to be a nice little outing.  A picnic, to celebrate an early spring and release the class’s newly hatched butterfly, Taco.  Parents were invited to take part.

_“Papa, can you come?  It’ll be fun, I promise!”_

_“Neal, I’m sorry, but I’ve just got a lot to do today if we want to open the shop next week.  You have fun.  We’ll go together on the weekend.  We’ll spend all day in the woods, how’s that?”_

_“It’s okay, I guess.”_

They ate breakfast together in the morning, Aaron drove Neal to school, they exchanged perfunctory “love you”s, and now…  And now.

He outstripped the various search parties long ago.  They were only slowing him down.  Now they’ve probably given up.  There are stories about these woods.  Stories he is desperately barring from his mind even as they whisper… Neal’s not the first to disappear.  Others have too.  Children, all of them.  And not a single one has been found.

Panic grips Aaron’s heart and he staggers to a stop, hands tingling and weak, knees turned to water.  He feels as if the ground is about to crumble and plunge him into an endless abyss.  He wishes it would.  It’s better than what he deserves.

Dragging air through a sob, he breaks into a run, blindly searching, blindly screaming for Neal.  He won’t be like the others, not Aaron’s son.  His perfect, beautiful boy will not be reduced to another missing person file in the Storybrooke sheriff’s office. Aaron will die first.

And with that, his foot snags on a root, his ankle snaps, and he topples down a hill, landing in mud and water and agony at the bottom.

“F-fuck…” he whimpers as his whole body protests even the act of lifting himself from the creek bed.

This settles it.  He is completely useless.  A useless son to Malcolm.  A useless husband to Milah.  A useless father to Neal.  The best thing for him to do is lie down and wait for death to claim him.  If it already got Neal, maybe they’ll find each other elsewhere.  Maybe.

His head falls to the dirt, and he stares into the dark woods turned sideways.  Wonders idly where his torch fell.  As his eyes start to drift shut, he can almost believe there’s a glimmer of light between the black trees.  Green light.  Wasn’t that part of the stories?  Green light in the forest at night.  Children vanishing without a trace.

_If only it was blue light._   The thought surprises him.  The blue lady hasn’t crossed his mind in years.  Whatever she was- some kind of spirit, some divine force, a product of some latent insanity- in this moment, she seems like Aaron’s only friend.

“Blue… Blue lady!” he croaks, “Please!  I- I’m ready!  Come find me!  Please!  Find my- find my son…”

His answer is silence and darkness.  Long minutes go by.  He is too exhausted and humiliated to try again.

Eventually, he reaches for a fallen branch.  Through hissed curses and pathetic cries, he climbs to his feet, and limps all the way out of the forest.  His ankle never fully heals.  And his son is never found.


	2. Chapter 2

**TWENTY YEARS LATER**

“Mr. Gold, it’s just- it’s my brother.  He got in a car accident.  He needed a little extra to make ends meet, y’know?  So, yeah, I gave him my rent money.  I- I had to, see?  And I-I-I don’t regret it, okay?  I don’t.  He’s family.  So… that’s just… how it’s gonna be- ah, ah, ahCHOO!  Okay?  Period.  So.  A-a-anyway, it’s just a loan!  He’s a good guy, he’ll pay me back, and then I’ll pay you!  I promise.  I swear.  Mr. Gold, I _swear_ \- ah, ahCHOO!  So, if I could just, maybe, have a little… tiny… extension?  Maybe?”

Mr. Gold stands with both palms resting on the handle of his cane.  He rocks on his feet, deftly hiding a wince at the stiffness in his bad ankle.  He stares at the unfortunate specimen before him.  He draws a deep breath, and releases it to say, “No.”

Mr. Clark’s face crumples beneath his ever-present tissue.  “O-okay.”

“You have until midnight to bring the rent to me.  After that, per the terms of your contract, the debt increases thirty dollars every day until it’s paid.  And I reserve the right to evict you at any time for lack of payment.  Am I understood?”

“Yeah.”  
  
“Lovely.  Don’t let me keep you.”

Mr. Clark scurries out.  Gold watches him go, as the thought crosses his mind yet again that there’s only so much money left to squeeze out of this dying town, now the cannery’s closed.  Not that it matters, really.  He’ll stay until he’s as poor as the rest.  He has to.  Just in case.

For now, he trudges through the rest of his day, closing the pawnshop at the usual time and going to his car.  He hopes Mr. Clark manages to scrape together what he owes, if only so Gold doesn’t have to chase him.  He’s getting too old for all that drama.  Too tired.

He returns home to one of the last large Victorians that are still occupied on his street.  He microwaves leftovers.  Eats.  Washes his dish, glass, silverware.  Climbs the stairs with his ankle complaining all the way.  Someday he won’t be able to make that trip anymore.  He’ll have to close up the whole top floor, just like Neal’s bedroom.

Teeth brushed and silk pajamas put on, he settles into bed to welcome sleep.  Tension seeps from his body as his drowsiness grows.  Peaceful oblivion has nearly found him when he notices light playing outside his closed eyelids.  He curses inwardly- he is in no mood for more nightmares.  But the usual host of horrors don’t follow the light.  It just grows, silent and blue.  He opens his eyes.

The blue lady floats before him.  He can see her much more clearly than before, down to the sequins on her jellyfish-shaped dress, and the translucent wings flapping from her back.  Her beautiful face is drawn with urgency as she declares, “ _AARON GOLD, THIS IS THE TIME, THIS IS THE PLACE, YOU MUST COMPLETE YOUR MISSION._ ”

Gold blinks a few times.  He slowly levers himself into a sitting position.  “Well, well.  What a surprise.  You finally turned up.  Twenty years too late.”

The lady has the nerve to look cross, of all things.  “ _YOUR WORLD STANDS ON THE BRINK OF DESTRUCTION.  DO YOU ACCEPT YOUR MISSION?_ ”

“Ah, yes, brink of destruction.  Just like it was forty bloody years ago?  Sure, sounds like a dreadful emergency.  I had an emergency.  My son.  I called for you, whatever you are.  I needed help.  I never got it.  So you see, my world’s already been destroyed.  The rest just needs to catch up.”

She squints, and drifts down a few inches.  “ _I never heard your call. Time moves differently in my world.  Why, for me it's only been minutes since I saw you as a boy. And less time yet since that unpleasant encounter in your youth.  What has happened to your son?_ ”

This is pointless.  Idiotic.  Why is he indulging an obvious manifestation of mental illness?  And yet, the grief hangs so heavy on his heart, it spills from his mouth as soon as he opens it.  “He disappeared.  Walked into the forest just outside of town and…  And he’s not been seen since.  I tried to find him.  And I got this for my trouble.”  He flicks a hand toward his cane and ruined ankle.

Far from looking remorseful or even sympathetic, the lady’s eyes burn with a righteous fire.  “ _And was there a green light in the forest when he was taken?_ ”

Gold starts, fixing a sharp stare on her.  “How do you know that?”

“ _Ha!_ ” she exclaims, “ _This is your mission!  If you succeed, you can save your son!_ ”

“What the hell are you saying?  And- and what do you mean my son was _taken_?”

The lady rises so high her head nearly touches the ceiling and blue rays shine from her like an alien sun.  “ _THE FORCES OF DARKNESS HAVE MADE A GRAVE MISTAKE.  THE CHAMPION SHALL RISE ALL THE MORE DETERMINED TO SAVE HIS BELOVED CHILD.  THIS IS THE TIME, THIS IS THE PLACE.  THE WORLD SHALL BE SAVED FROM DESTRUCTION.  STEP FORTH, AARON GOLD, CHOSEN CHAMPION, AND CLAIM YOUR WEAPON FOR THE GLORIOUS BATTLE TO COME._ ”

Insanity.  This is pure insanity.  But if there’s even a chance he doesn’t have to go to his grave wondering if he could have saved Neal…  Gold climbs out of bed and limps his way to the blue lady.

There’s another flash of light, and a sword in a sheath appears in her dainty hands.  She holds it out to Gold, who lifts an eyebrow.

“A sword?  Are you serious?”

“ _IT WILL IMBUE YOU WITH THE STRENGTH REQUIRED TO DEFEAT THE EVIL ENTITY.  TAKE IT INTO THE WOODS ON THE HALF-MOON NIGHT.  FOLLOW THE GREEN LIGHT.  COMPLETE YOUR MISSION.  SAVE YOUR WORLD.  SAVE YOUR SON._ ”

The sword drops from her hands and into Gold’s.  It’s not as heavy as he expected.  There are roses embossed on the leather of the sheath and the cross-guard looks oddly like an open book.  “And how exactly will-?”

As he looks up to finish his question, the blue light winks out, taking the lady with it.

“Dammit,” Gold grumbles, and turns his attention to the sword again.  He limps back to his bed and eases himself onto it, turns on the nightstand lamp and wraps a hand around the hilt.

And a woman’s voice says, “Hello.”

He startles and glares around the room, muttering, “What the hell…?”

“Sorry, I’m-”

The sword clatters to the floor.

“Hey!  That’s not very polite.  I said I’m sorry.”

Gold stares at it.  The voice- it doesn’t sound like it’s coming from the sword, which is of course completely impossible.  It just seems to appear in the air.  Without a person to belong to it.  Of course.

Now the voice sighs.  “Look, all right, the Blue Fairy should’ve told you I’m alive.  Sort of.  But I guess she got distracted with her big prophetic announcement.  So, let’s start at the beginning.  Hello, I’m Belle.  I’m a magic sword.  Your magic sword.  For the time being.”

Gold swallows dryly.  “W-what?”

“Can we continue this conversation without me lying on the floor?  I don’t really like it down here.”

“Oh, yes…”  Gold scoops up the sword and sets it on his bed, and thoroughly ignores the fleeting thought that the first woman to join him here in over a decade is inhabiting a piece of sharpened metal.

“Much better, thanks.  Right, so, a long time ago, my village was under attack by a horde of ogres-”

“What?  Ogres… ogres don’t exist.”

“They do in my world, I’ve got the bloodstains to prove it.  Anyway, the Blue Fairy came, and she said I could save everyone, I just…  I needed to sacrifice my human form to become- this.  So I did.  And my father wielded me, and killed nearly every ogre and sent the rest running.  However, he… he was injured, badly.  My magic kept him alive until the battle was over, but he died shortly after.  Then the Blue Fairy came back, and claimed me.  And now, when she wants a battle to go her way, she selects a champion and presents me to them.”

Gold can’t wrap his brain around any of this, least of all the fact that Belle the Magic Sword speaks with an Australian accent, but one detail manages to catch hold.  “You- you have no choice in the matter?”

“Um, not really, no.”

“Doesn’t that bother you?”

“Well, I get to go places, and meet people, which is nice… even if I have to kill some of them.  I mean, what else am I going to do?  Hang on a wall in the castle of my village, and watch time crawl by year after year, forever?  No thank you.”

“I suppose I see your point.  The, ah, the Blue Fairy…  She is a force for good, would you say?”

“Um, well… it’s all relative, isn’t it?  The people she’s chosen as champions would say so, but not the people those people were fighting against.  The Blue Fairy is an ancient being.  She sees the world differently from… from just about everyone.  I believe she wants what’s best for most.  But I don’t know exactly what that means, in detail.”

“All right.  And what about this ‘evil entity’ I’m supposed to defeat?  Could it be someone who just happened to get on the Blue Fairy’s bad side?”

“I don’t know, unfortunately.  I don’t have any more information on that than you do.  Sorry.”

It’s Gold’s turn to sigh.  “Very well.  It’s no matter.  If I can get Neal back, it makes no difference.  I’ll do whatever it takes.  Though, I’m afraid I don’t know the first thing about wielding a sword, Belle.  If only you were a Walther pistol instead…”

“Well, I suppose we can practice.  How long until the next half-moon?”

Gold scrambles for his phone.  “Ah, twelve days.  That can’t be enough time.  And nothing will fix my damned leg.”

“Oh?  Are you certain?”

Gold squints at Belle.  “I… I _was_.”

“Recall you’ve been given the use of a _magic_ sword.  Come on, unsheathe me.  We might as well get started practicing.”

“All right.”  Gold reaches for Belle’s hilt, but hesitates.  “This feels… impolite.”

A bright giggle rings out, warming a cold place inside him.  “You have my express permission to wield me, Aaron.  There, does that help?”

“Somewhat.”  Telling himself to act like the sword is a phone Belle is speaking through, he grabs the hilt in one hand and the sheathed blade in the other.  Then he draws it out.

He lets out a half-choked cry as some kind of energy surges through him.  He’s on his feet in an instant, and for the first time in twenty years, it doesn’t hurt.  The energy seems to flow from the core of him out to the tips of his fingers and toes.  He feels like he could cut down a tree in one slash.

“You are now invincible,” Belle informs him, with a note of pride in her voice, “While you can be hurt, you will not fall until your victory is secured.”

He believes her.  He swings the sword once, twice, enjoys how it slices through the air.  Where a minute ago it seemed impossible for him to succeed in this Fairy-given mission, now he wonders… how hard can it be?  He’ll have Belle.  He cannot fall.  It’s for Neal.  Just that thought sends out a fresh thrum of energy.  Whatever has his boy, whoever they are, their days are numbered.  And that number is twelve.

Gold forces himself to take a breath, and return Belle to her sheath.  “Ah, dammit,” he grunts as the energy deserts him and the pain swells once again.  He mostly hops back to his bed, setting her down and shaking out his still tingling arms with a huff.  “That’s… that’s a hell of a drug, your magic.”

“We’ll practice in the morning?”

“Aye, we will.  For now, ah, where should you…?”

“Oh, put me anywhere, no worries.”

Gold frowns, “Well, I’m not going to put you just ‘anywhere.’  You’re a- a guest.  Where would you like to go?”

“Um…  Can it be somewhere I can watch the sunrise?”

“Certainly.”

He takes her to an east-facing guest room and pulls a chair up to the window, then pauses while trying to decide whether to set her on it point up or down.

“It’s fine either way, Aaron,” she chuckles.

He rests the hilt on the chair’s seat and lets the blade lean on the back rest.  “There.  I, ah, hope you’re comfortable.  Please call if you need anything.”

“What could I need?”

Gold shrugs, “Sharpening?”

Belle laughs again, and it truly is one of the loveliest sounds he’s heard in a long time.  “Not right now.  But I’ll let you know.  Good night.”

“Yes, good night, Belle.”

He turns to leave, but stops to hear her say, “I’m glad to be here, Aaron.”

The little warm place inside him grows.  “And I am very glad you are here.  Until tomorrow.”

“Very well.”

He leaves her to… rest, he supposes.  Does she sleep?  Probably not.  But he must, if he’s going to be ready to begin his training tomorrow.  To defeat the evil entity.  To rescue Neal.


	3. Chapter 3

 The next day starts with a cup of very strong coffee and toast and a long search for sword-fighting tutorials online.  Once he’s plucked some promising information among the clips of video games, film, and television, he goes to Belle’s room.

“Good morning,” he says to the sword in the chair that looks so very lifeless.

“Good morning,” Belle replies.

The worry that he lost his mind last night fades, somewhat.  He shifts on his feet slightly.  “I feel as though I should offer you tea or breakfast or something.”

“That’s not necessary, but thank you.”

“Did you enjoy the sunrise?”

“Very much.  And now it’s time for us to get to work, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

Belle’s magic is just as thrilling as it was last night.  It’s difficult to focus on the techniques in the videos when he feels like he could simply hack apart anything that got in his way.  But he has no idea what he and Belle are going to face when the half-moon comes.  He has to use his brain as well as the magic.

At noon he chooses to break for lunch.  The instant Belle is sheathed, fatigue floods his body that’s even stronger than the pain from his ankle.  “Christ!” he gasps, dropping onto his living room sofa.

“Yeah, sorry,” Belle says, “The magic takes a toll, I’m afraid.”

“It did this to your other wielders?”

“Well, if they needed practice, they usually had their own swords, or could easily get one.  I was reserved for the final battle.  Usually locked away so I wouldn’t be stolen.”

“I see.”

“Swords are not common in this world, I gather.”

“No, not for a long time.  It’s possible I’ve never been in a same room as a sword that wasn’t for display purposes only.”

“Really?  What else can you tell me about your world?  I didn’t even know it existed until the Blue Fairy made contact.  And she didn’t tell me much.  Or anything.  We don’t… chat, like this.”

Gold purses his lips as a thought occurs.  “Would you like to see my world?  That is, the very small part of it called Storybrooke?”

“Oh!  I- I would like that, yes.”

“Excellent.  Allow me to freshen up, and we’ll do lunch at Granny’s.”

“Your grandmother lives here?”

Gold laughs on his way upstairs.  Let her wonder where she’s about to go for a while.  It’ll do her good.

He initially binds the sheath to his belt using the leather ties that dangle from it, but soon discovers it’s not possible to drive his Caddy with a sword stuck between the door and his thigh.  So Belle rides shotgun on their way to the diner.  This is better, he decides, as she marvels at Storybrooke’s meager sights.  Her wonder almost makes the old town feel new again.

He parks outside Granny’s and climbs out, then strolls around to open Belle’s door and secure her to his belt.  The length of the ties is just right to keep her hilt from bunching up the bottom of his suit jacket.  He saunters up the walk and into the diner, heading for the first empty booth he spots and making sure to sit so Belle can look out around her.  Then he takes out his mobile phone and holds it to his ear.

“This is Granny’s Diner,” he says, “Do you like it?”

“I, um, yes,” Belle murmurs, “You weren’t joking about swords being uncommon.  _Everyone_ is looking at me.”

“Well, why shouldn’t they?  There’s old-world craftsmanship in every inch of you.  Let them look.”

“They look scared.”

Gold knows his smirk must be positively reptilian.  “Do they?”

Granny approaches, gaze jumping from him to Belle and back.  “Afternoon, Gold.”

“Mrs. Lucas.”

“Nice accessory.”

“Isn’t she?  Her name is Belle.  Feel free to say hello.”

Granny scowls instead.  “No weapons allowed in my restaurant.”

Gold lifts an eyebrow.  “Oh?  That wasn’t the case last deer hunting season, as I recall.”

“New policy.”

“Ah, well, in that case, I’ll have a hamburger with extra pickles to go then.”  He slips a twenty dollar bill from his wallet and holds it up between two fingers.  “Shout when it’s ready, eh?  And keep the change.”

Granny’s scowl deepens, but she plucks the bill from his grasp and spins on a heel, stomping back to the kitchen.

Gold brings the phone back up to his ear.  “She and I have a complicated relationship.”

“She doesn’t seem to like you very much.”  
  
“Well, I’m her landlord so…  Perhaps our relationship isn’t that complicated.”

“You’re a lord?”

“ _Land_ lord.  I own this building, and many in town.  She and others rent them from me.  It doesn’t endear me to the public, but I can walk ‘round with a sword on my hip and not be bothered by anyone less cantankerous than Granny.  I find it’s the small pleasures that make life worth living.”

Belle is silent as they wait for Gold’s lunch.  When he spots Granny coming with a paper bag in hand, he climbs out of the booth and takes it with a smile that’s met with an eye-roll.  He goes to door and opens it to find Mr. Clark on the other side.  HIs eyes widen as they take Gold in, and widen further when he spots Belle.  He yelps and sneezes and whips around, bolting down the pavement like his house is on fire.

Gold lets out a hum, “I suppose he still hasn’t paid up.”  He makes a mental note to add thirty dollars to Mr. Clark’s total debt.

He rests a hand on Belle’s hilt on their way back to the car, and it pains him to untie and place her in the passenger seat with his food.  She doesn’t speak, all the way back to the house.  Though it’s been a very long time since Gold was a husband, he still remembers what the silent treatment feels like.  He lets the silence reign until he’s settled at his dining room table with his burger and Belle placed in the chair beside him.

“Something on your mind?” he inquires.

“That man who owes you money was very frightened.”

“Eh, Mr. Clark is a nervous sort.  He’ll recover shortly, not to worry.”

“What if he didn’t pay you for many days?  Would- would you…?”

“Would I what?  Attack him in the street?”  He scoffs, “You really think I would use you like that?  That is, on someone who isn’t our target?”

“You’d not be the first,” Belle’s voice is small, and sad, “The power- you know it’s strong.  I understand it can be… intoxicating.  Some of my wielders…  They turned me on their allies during the battle.  They cut down their friends.  Their brothers.  It was like they’d gone mad.”

Despite his earlier disbelief bordering on insult, a chill rolls through him at her words.  He reaches out and lays a hand on her sheath.  “Yes, I- I hear what you’re saying.  That must have been horrible for you.”

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

Gold returns his attention to his food.  “Well, as you might have gathered in town, I have no allies, no friends, certainly no brothers.  I promise when the battle comes, I’ll direct any and all berserker rage at our target.”

“Yes.”

They return to practice after lunch.  Gold works hard to drill the basic techniques into his mind and muscles, knowing it’s really all he can do to prepare.  No allies, no friends- nothing better than a threadbare dressmaker form to spar with.  His first real opponent will be an unknown evil entity who will no doubt do everything it can to kill him.  Grand.

Evening falls before he sets Belle down again, feels the magic drain away and leave him all but staggering on his feet.  Dinner restores his energy level to a low ebb, enough to get him up the stairs and carry Belle back to her chair by the window.

“Um, what are the other rooms in your house?” she asks before he sets her down.  “Can I see them?  I’m very curious.”

He can say no.  He can say he’s too tired.  But he’s behaved poorly enough for one day.  His exhaustion makes him painfully aware of the ludicrous arrogance he displayed at Granny’s.  Belle said her magic was intoxicating.  That’s certainly one word for it.

So he takes her around the upstairs- the guest bathroom she has no use for, the empty bedrooms that are entirely colonized by stock overflow, the master suite’s bathroom.  He even shows her the linen closet before approaching the last room.  The one he’s become very good at avoiding over the previous two decades.  But then, he doesn’t need to avoid it anymore, does he?

He pushes open the door.  “This is, ah, Neal’s room.  I managed to… to box up his things, but…”  The pain in his newly crippled leg kept him focused on the task. But when it was done, he looked around the room and suddenly imagined that Neal was just moving out, going to college perhaps, and his heart ached with such an enormous hollow pain that he shut the door, and never opened it again.

“Twenty years he’s been gone,” Gold murmurs as he gazes at the boxes stacked around child-sized furniture, everything coated in a fine layer of dust.  “Will I even know him, if- when I see him?  Who is he now?”

“He’s your son,” Belle replies with simple conviction.

Gold draws in and releases a deep breath.  She’s right.  No matter what happens, Gold is getting Neal back.  That is his mission.


	4. Chapter 4

Gold trains.  From sun up, to sun down, only taking breaks when black spots dance before his eyes.  No more trips to Granny’s.  He doesn’t even go to the shop to check if Mr. Clark dropped off his rent plus interest.  Just training, until Belle feels as comfortable in his hand as his cane does.  Almost more so, as he spends more time with his ankle magically healed than without.  He’ll miss that freedom from pain, when Belle’s gone.

He’ll miss Belle.  They carry on a running conversation while Gold executes maneuvers he feels like he could now do in his sleep.  Belle’s stories about her world are like epic fantasy movies playing out in his head.  He wouldn’t believe them if they weren’t being told by an enchanted sword.  The things he can share about his world seem unbearably dull in comparison, but she seems just as eager to hear them.  Especially stories about Neal, which Gold can find joy in recounting for the first time since the disappearance, though it’s mixed with a strong dose of anxiety.

Time flies, and suddenly the half-moon will rise tomorrow night.  Gold washes a pan in the sink after dinner while saying to Belle, “Neal thought all lobsters were the size of crayfish, barely longer than my finger.  When he saw the creature, he acted like it was some dread leviathan come to gobble him up.”

Belle laughs, “Oh no!  Did he manage to escape?”

“Yes, all the way out to the car.  It took half an hour to calm him down and nearly another to get him back inside.”

“Poor lamb.  I had about the same reaction when I first saw a lobster.”

“And when was that?”

“When I was young.  My village was by the sea.  Fishing boats were always going in and out.  They brought in all manner of strange creatures from the deep, which we ate.”

Her voice has gone soft and warm.  She almost never speaks of her life before taking the Blue Fairy’s offer.  Gold dries the pan and puts it away.  Then he unrolls and re-buttons his shirtsleeves before reaching for his suit jacket and cane.  “Do you fancy taking a drive, Belle?” he inquires.

“A drive?”

“Yes.  Depending on how things go in the woods tomorrow night, I may not get another chance.”

“Don’t say that.”

He shrugs, “Nonetheless.  Shall we?”

“All right.”

He carries her to the car and they drive through the dusk out to Storybrooke’s rocky, windswept shore.  A half-hearted attempt at a boardwalk curves away from the pier where boats sway with the tide.  It’s a cloudier day than he’d like- the horizon is cast in so many shades of gray it’s difficult to tell where the water ends and the sky begins.  Regardless, he parks the Caddy and takes Belle up to lean on the rail and look out to sea, drawing a slow salt-tanged breath while the wind ruffles his hair.

He hears Belle release a sigh of her own.  “This is nice.  I wish I could feel the breeze.”

Gold takes his mobile from his pocket and replies into it, “You can’t?”

“No.  I don’t really feel anything.  Everything just… is.  But I can’t complain.  My village survived the horde, because of… Well, because of what my father did.”

Gold frowns, “You _and_ your father.”

“Not really.  It was him, the wielder.  I’m just… wielded.  Carried around.  Tied to a belt.  Locked away.  Once a king wanted to have me melted down and made into a crown.  He thought it would make him immortal.”

“Would it?”

“I have no idea.  Anyway, soon after the battle he was assassinated by his nephew.  Then the Blue Fairy reclaimed me.  I wonder sometimes if the nephew was acting on her orders.  She never said.  I never asked.”

“I see.”  He doesn’t.  He can’t even imagine.

“Sometimes I don’t bother speaking when I’m given to a new wielder.  I just stay quiet.  Let them do whatever they need to do.  Kill whoever needs to be killed.  Maybe I’ll just stop talking altogether someday.  Maybe that’s what happens to all enchanted weapons.  We just… go silent.”

Gold can’t stand the thought of that.  Belle as a sword is more vibrant and intelligent than nearly all the human-shaped people he’s ever met.  It would be a terrible loss to whatever world she was in if she let herself forget her own sentience.

Before he can come up with a way to say that out loud, she emits an entirely fake laugh.  “I’m sorry, don’t listen to me.  It’s just been so lovely being here and I don’t…  You- you’ll be careful tomorrow, won’t you?”  Belle has no eyes, and yet Gold can feel the weight of her worried stare.  It’s rather nice, if only for the novelty.  His aunties were the first and last people to worry about him.

“I’ll try, Belle.  Though, if it does go poorly…  If we find Neal, can you tell him I love him very much?  That I’m sorry I couldn’t come for him sooner?”

“I will, if I can.”

They stay until the sky dims to charcoal and spits rain.  It reminds Gold of Scotland, which he appreciates.  He takes Belle back to the car and they drive home.


	5. Chapter 5

“Really?  A suit?  You don’t have anything more- protective?”

Gold gives his lapels a soft tug.  “Well, dearie, I’m afraid my armorer is on holiday.  Armani will have to do.”  He grins at his pun, which goes woefully unappreciated by Belle.  He would explain it to her, but they need to get moving.  It’s sundown now.  Time to go.

Ever since the last failed search attempt, the thought of even going near the forest outside Storybrooke has brought a cold sweat to Gold’s brow.  He could never do this without Belle by his side, giving him strength even while sheathed.

They drive in silence to the place where Neal and his third grade class had their fateful picnic.  Gold climbs out of the Caddy and ties the sheath to his belt.  Then he comes to stand at the edge, staring into the black trees while flicking his torch on and off with his thumb.  For a second, he wonders if the last twelve days have all been some kind of bizarrely vivid mental break.  Nothing about this has become any less insane since the Blue Fairy appeared for the third time, but at least it’s been largely contained within the privacy of his own home.  Now he’s actually going to wander out into the woods, with no instruction beyond platitudes about evil and destiny and saving the world.

Gold swallows hard.  “For Neal,” he says, and starts walking.

It’s not the steadfast march into glorious battle the Blue Fairy would likely approve of.  It involves a lot of stumbling and cursing and nearly-made decisions to turn back.  But he carries on, through the ever deepening darkness, not stopping until he finally sees something he convinced himself long ago was never actually real.  Green light in the forest.

“Belle, do you see that?”

“Yes.”

“All right then.”

He turns off and pockets his torch.  Then he shifts his cane to his left hand, and draws Belle from her sheath and breathes through the energy surge.  He hopes Belle doesn’t notice the tremor in his grip on her hilt as he continues forward.  The light grows from a glimmer to a shine contained within a clearing that is ringed with children.  They stand in perfect stillness, their heads bowed, eyes closed.  Nine in all.  The source of the light is in the center of the clearing, too bright to look at directly.  In any case Gold is busy moving from child to child, examining their faces as well as he can in the unnatural glare.  None of them are Neal.

“ _Is this the best Ruel Ghorm can manage?_ ” says a female voice.

Gold whips around, squinting until he can just make out the shadowy shape of a seated woman within the light.  The evil entity, he supposes.  He drops his cane to clasp Belle with both hands.

“ _One man with a sword against the realm-tearing power of my magic.  How romantic.  How futile._ ”

Gold stays silent.  He’s seen enough films to know any reaction will be used against him.

“ _Well, I’m certainly not going to let you stand in my way, am I?  Children, dispose of him._ ”

The light flares so bright Gold’s eyes slam shut and his hand rises to shield them.  When he lowers it and looks again, the children approach from all sides.  Their eyes are open and glowing green in otherwise blank faces.  Green energy spits and sizzles in their little hands.

Gold raises Belle up, only to feel her quiver in his hands as she cries, “Please, Aaron, _please_ don’t make me hurt them!”

“I- I don’t want to, but I don’t know what to do!”  He tries to lunge forward and jab in the general direction of a curly-haired boy.  He doesn’t flinch, and Gold is forced to scurry backwards, closer to the two girls behind him.  The hands of all the children are rising, the energy jumping between them with a threatening hum.

“I saw- when she took control of them, I saw where they’re connected to her power,” Belle says, “Maybe… maybe I can break it.  Swipe over their heads when I say.”

For now all Gold can do is turn within the tightening circle, trying to avoid the children’s hands as they reach for him.  When he feels a tug and smells burnt fabric he jerks to free the hem of his suit jacket from a blonde girl’s grip.  “Any time, Belle!”

This is when he notices blue light emanating from Belle’s blade.  “All right, now!” she shouts, and he slashes the glowing weapon just above the girl’s head.  There’s a green flash, and the light fades from her eyes and sputters from her hands.  She sags, and crumples to the ground.

“Oh gods!” Belle gasps, “Is she dead?”

“I don’t know but this is all we’ve got.”

Gold keeps slashing, and the children fall, and he hears the voice from within the light growl, “ _No, no, no, NO!_ ”

Belle’s magic is surging hard as Gold spins and slashes.  This is it.  His mission.  What he was meant to do from the moment the Blue Fairy first appeared to him.  The evil entity must be defeated.  Will be.  Her corruption will not spread to his world.  He will protect it.  He is the chosen champion.

When the last opponent falls, he whirls around to face the evil entity.  Breathing hard, he points the sword at the center of her vague shape in the blaze of magic, and advances.  He will plunge it into her heart, and the world will be saved.

But then the shadows draw away, revealing the woman and also the child sitting at her feet.  The boy.  Neal.  Exactly as he was twenty years ago.  He floats up in a haze of green light directly in Gold’s path, eyes glowing and palms burning.  But Gold can’t stop.  The magic of the sword is driving him to the completion of his mission even as his mind reels and begs to do anything but.

Then blue light flashes, and another person appears between Gold and the evil entity.  He barely registers what’s happened before slim arms wrap around Neal and pull him to the right, leaving nothing but air between the point of Gold’s blade and the evil entity’s chest.  It strikes true, sinking in until the two are face-to-face.

The evil entity is beautiful and pale.  Gold reads faint amusement on her features.  Then confusion as her gaze drifts down to the sword plunged through her heart.  Then there’s pain.  And, as her gaze wanders back to him, realization.  “It’s you.  Hello.  And goodbye… my son…”

Her last breath rattles out and she slumps.  Gold stumbles away, cringing as the sword slides free and her body disintegrates into black ash.  For a long moment, all he can do is stand and stare as shock overwhelms him.  Eventually, he manages to look in the direction Neal went.  He sees his son lying limp with closed eyes in the arms of a woman.  She appears solid, except for a haze of blue light that surrounds her.  She seems to be wearing a sparkling medieval gown.  Her bright eyes are on Gold, and she gives him a small, awkward smile.

Gold swallows against a dry throat and croaks, “Is he alive?”

Belle holds a hand under Neal’s nose.  “He’s breathing.”

A nearly inhuman noise of anguished relief bursts out of Gold as he staggers to them and drops to his knees, pulling Belle and Neal into as tight an embrace as he can manage.  He barely notices the pain return to his ankle as the sword falls in the grass.

He would’ve preferred to stay like this forever, but blue light shines outside his squeezed-shut eyes, forcing him to raise his head and watch the Blue Fairy’s arrival.  She floats to where black ash still swirls and settles, where green light still glitters from a crack in reality.  Her expression is serene.  “ _At last, that’s taken care of._ ”

“Who was she?” Gold asks.

“ _A fairy who got a taste for dark magic.  It consumed her, as it always does._ ”

“She… Was she my mother?”

“ _Yes.  And she thought she could hide you from me.  Of course, all she did was cause her own downfall.  Why else would she have sent you here, if not to protect herself?”_

“What do you mean?”

“ _She worked a spell that made her impervious to all injury, but for a blow struck by her own blood kin.  That’s why you were chosen._ ”

Gold’s guts curdle.  “Chosen… to kill my own mother?!”

A hint of confusion wanders over her face.  “ _To save your adopted world.  Fiona wanted to conquer it.  That was her goal, I assure you._ ”

“Oh, you assure me.  That’s settled then.  Especially since we can’t ask her, what with my impaling her on a bloody sword.”

 _“She stole children and used them to anchor her magic to this world.  She stole_ your _child.  She had embraced evil.  She couldn’t be saved._ ”

“You don’t know that.  We’ll never know.  But I deserved to.  I deserved to know who she was!  Where I’m- where I’m actually _from_ , dammit!”

The Blue Fairy simply stares at him, blinks, and turns her attention to Belle.  “ _You’re not permitted to leave the sword.  Return now.  It’s time to go._ ”

She isn’t human.  As Belle said, she sees the world differently from any puny mortal living within it.  She has no concept of the damage she’s done, any more than Gold would grieve for an ant he stepped on.  He catches Belle’s gaze, and for the first time reads the expression on her face.  She doesn’t want to go.  And if she does, Gold is certain a piece of his heart will go with her.

“I… I…  Can’t I stay?” Belle murmurs, “Just for- for a little while?”

“ _You’re required elsewhere.  Return to the sword._ ”

“Please.  It’s just that I…”

“ _The next wielder is waiting.  This is your purpose.  This is what you agreed to._ ”

Belle’s eyes slip shut as sorrow fills her face.  She reaches out to where the sword lies.

When her fingertips are a breath away Gold blurts out, “Wait!”

The Blue Fairy looks quite annoyed now.  “ _What?_ ”

“Belle’s current wielder hasn’t completed his mission.”

She lifts an eyebrow.  “ _Yes, you have._ ”

“I have not.  Look there, at that crack.”  He nods to the glimmer of green.  “It’s not gone, even though Fiona’s- dead.  Is it permanent?”

The Blue Fairy frowns, but floats to the crack.  She holds out her hands and surrounds it with a blue glow.  There is no visible change.  Her frown deepens.  She tries again.  Still no change.  She lets out a huff.

Gold does a poor job hiding his grin.  “See?  You told me to protect my world from the evil entity.  Not from Fiona.  What if something else comes through that crack, eh?  Someone else bent on destruction or conquest?  A _new_ evil entity?”

“ _That isn’t… impossible_ ,” the Blue Fairy concedes with massive reluctance.

“Right, and therefore, my mission isn’t complete.  So I’ll be keeping the weapon you gave me in service of it, thanks very much.”

The Blue Fairy glares at him before blowing a breath through her nose.  “ _The crack will most certainly heal when the last of Fiona’s bloodline dies.  I can wait._ ”

Gold gives her a cordial nod and smile, the latter of which grows wide and warm as he shares it with Belle.

The Blue Fairy floats up and away as she declares, _“FAREWELL, AARON GOLD, CHOSEN CHAMPION.  CONTINUE YOUR MISSION.  PROTECT YOUR WORLD FROM EVIL.  THIS IS YOUR DESTINY._ ”

She winks out, leaving the clearing in darkness but for the crack’s gleam and Belle’s glow.  After a moment, Gold hears a sound that brings tears to his eyes.

“… Papa?”

Neal is confused to say the least.  So are all the children as they wake from their magic-induced stupor.  Gold explains as best he can, and knows it’s only their youthful minds that allows them to accept what happened to them.  Their parents will be much harder to deal with, but he can only hope reuniting with their lost children will persuade them to excuse all of the impossibilities.

For now, he picks up the sword and stands.  Then, with Neal’s hand in his and Belle’s on his shoulder, he leads the children out of the woods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All done! Thanks for reading!


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